


coin-operated girl

by FreshBrains



Category: Alien Series, Alien: Resurrection (1997)
Genre: Ableist Language, Androids, Canon Disabled Character, Character Study, Disability Fest, Explicit Language, Gen, Introspection, Machines, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-16
Updated: 2014-07-16
Packaged: 2018-02-09 02:41:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1965855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreshBrains/pseuds/FreshBrains
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vriess learns to like this strange new girl on the <i>Betty</i>.  </p><p>She sees too much of herself in him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	coin-operated girl

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Tumblr [Disabilityfest](http://disabilityfest.tumblr.com/)

“We don’t need some cripple on the _Betty_.” Johner’s voice was unmistakable—loud, brutish, obnoxious even through a steel door.  Vriess rolled his eyes. It wasn’t the first time some dumbass thing came out of Johner’s mouth and it wouldn’t be the last.

“Shut the fuck up.  He’s the best mechanic we got.  You want to fix this piece of shit yourself?  Be my guest.”  The captain always stood up for him, but Vriess didn’t need it—he could hold his own, especially in a verbal battle with an ape like Johner.

Still, it was nice.  It was nice to feel important, and it was _really_ nice to be good at something.

Elgyn stepped onto the deck, joining Vriess, and leaned against the railing.  “So, you ready?  We need a lot of help, so you better be up to it.”

Vriess nodded sagely.  “Three questions first.  You got anything to drink?”

Elgyn snorted.  “Not really.  Some swill Johner drops big bucks on, that’s pretty much all.”

“You got smokes?”

“Not really.”

“You got women?”

“Not really.”

Vriess sighed, thinking about what was left for him _off_ the _Betty—_ odd jobs, prostitutes, cheap beer at a shitty inaccessible bar.  He stuck out his hand.  “Permission to come aboard, sir?”

Elgyn smiled, handsome with his white teeth and dark eyes, and returned the gesture.  “Sure thing.”

*

Call was a surprise.  She surprised all of them, small and snotty and irritating, quick with a jab or an insult but just as quick to prove she was good enough to be on the _Betty_. 

And _damn,_ the girl was good with an engine.

“Where’d you learn how to do that, anyway?” Vriess nodded towards the jagged parts Call was salvaging from a broken-down cargo craft.  Vriess was handy with a wrench, but not even he could tell what Call was studying so intensely—what was a heap of metal to him was a puzzle to be solved for Call.

Call looked up, face blank.  “No one ever taught me.  I just know.”

Vriess nodded, impressed.  “That’s a hell of a thing to ‘just know,’ kiddo.”

Call shrugged, looking uncomfortable.  “Yeah, well.”

*

The only thing Vriess couldn’t fix himself was his chair.  He hated it, hated the irony of it, but especially hated how idiotic everyone else on the _Betty_ seemed to be about machines compared to him.  Even the captain and whip-smart Hillard were helpless when it came to the intricate wiring and movement of his chair.

He designed it himself, after all.

“How’d you get in this thing, anyway?” Call’s words were muffled by the screwdriver she held between her teeth as she lay on the deck, hands up inside the belly of the chair, fixing the motor.  It was almost sensual, the way he still sat there, barely seeing her but letting her touch one of the most intricate parts of himself.

Vriess smiled, even though Call couldn’t see him.  “No one ever told me.  I just am.”

There was a pause, and then the clatter of a tool hitting the floor.  Call’s hand came up over the arm of the chair, giving him a proud middle finger.

Vriess laughed until his sides hurt.

*

Vriess was a good shot during a basketball game, though he preferred to sit on the sidelines and heckle while Johner, Sabra, and Elgyn worked up a sweat.  Call sometimes got in there, but she was both too small and too bursting with energy, like she was holding back somehow. 

“Sure you don’t want in?” Call dribbled the ball, the sleeves of her jumpsuit pushed up all the way to her shoulders.  It was too big on her.

“Leave him be,” Johner said gruffly.  Call rolled her eyes.

“I’m fine.  Let’s see what you’re made of,” Vriess said, nodding towards the hoop.

“You got it,” Call answered, and prepared to do a lay-up before Johner decided to be a dick and trip her.  Instead of sprawling on the hard ground, Call stumbled and fell right into Vriess’ lap with an _oomph_.

“Call, you could’ve just said something,” he drawled, helping her up.

“Bite me,” Call said, blushing furiously, and Vriess just laughed.  He always laughed at her, but she never seemed to mind.

*

After Ripley, after USM _Auriga_ , it was all different, of course.  After Elgyn and Christie and Hillard.  After everything went to shit for the hundredth time in his shitty life.

“How come you don’t talk to me anymore?” Call sat down next to him.  There were on some border planet, Vriess forgot the name—everything was a blur, after.  Johner was gone, still a mercenary on a different craft, and Ripley was gone after she and Call got them to safety.  But Call and Vriess were still together.

Vriess snorted.  “We practically live on top of each other.  We always talk.”

Call was quiet for a moment.  “Do you not see me the same way anymore?”

Vriess rolled his eyes.  “You’re an android.  It’s kind of hard to see you the same way.  No offense.”

“None taken,” Call said, giving him her trademark middle finger.  “Does it matter?”

“I always wondered,” Vriess said, looking back on all the times Call could fix things that he couldn’t, when she just seemed to _know_ the machines and gears.  “I always wondered if we got along so well because I was in the chair.  It was something for you to experiment on, something new.”  He looked away, embarrassed.  “Because that’s pretty fucked up.”

Call was quiet again before she took his hand in hers.  It was a gentle, perfunctory touch—nobody would ever accuse Annalee Call of warmth.  But it was nice.  “It’s not that.  You’re easy for me to be with.  A part of you is like me, Vriess.”

“I’m flesh and bone, honey.  Not wires.”  But Vriess knew what she meant.

“You’re just,” Call said, brow knit, “easy to understand.  The machine helps you move.  The motor, the gears, the batteries.  They _move_ you.  Just like they do for me.”

Vriess sighed, stroking Call’s hand with his thumb.  “Yeah, Call, she helps me move.  She really does.”

**Author's Note:**

> While watching this movie the other day my brother told me how much easier it would've been for him when he was little if he knew how to design his own leg braces/casts so he'd be more comfortable, which gave me the headcanon that Vriess designed his own chair. 
> 
> I'm no gear-head and I'm hopeless with science, so if any of the lingo is wrong, let me know. I am also able-bodied. So if I'm at all out of line when it comes to _anything_ in this fic, please, let me know. Just because I love my disabled brother doesn't mean I get a free pass.


End file.
